Father Zantus (Nualia's Story)
Father Zantus relates the troubling story of Nuali's childhood and apparent death. Nualia's story "Thank you for coming," Father Zantus guides you into his sanctum, indicating the chairs before his desk as he circles it to face you, “and please, let me begin by apologizing to you for my behavior earlier… you have done this town a great service, and were you not there those abominations could have overwhelmed the sheriff and I at the crypts. You deserved better than my rudeness that night.” The priest takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly, clearly at war with himself over something… before finally turning towards the window and staring out into the fading sunlight. “Has anyone spoken with you about Nualia? I imagine not – its not the sort of story one tells at a festival gathering… she was a member of this town, a foundling discovered on the steps of the old church back when Father Tobyn was still alive. No one knew where she had come from… there hadn’t been any unaccounted for pregnancies nor had anyone seen whom had left her – it was thought that she was a child stolen by one of the Scarzni who later had second thoughts, or perhaps one of the outlying farms had had a daughter they felt they couldn’t raise… but one thing was undeniable – the girl was special.” “She was beautiful, yes, beautiful beyond compare with silver hair that shone in the sun and violet eyes the like of which I’d never seen, even amongst the elves… but there was something otherworldly about her as well. Almost ethereal. She had an angelic voice, and her laugh – I was just a still a young man when she was growing up, but I was as smitten with her as everyone else. Father Tobyn had chosen to adopt her as his own, to raise her in his church. He had grand plans for her one day, perhaps investing her in a prestigious convent where she would receive the very best guidance and become a true hand of the Goddess in all our lives…” He trails off a moment, his hand coming up to touch the window, as if he were seeing the past through its distorted surface, and wished to reach out for it once more.. “She was a happy child, loved and adored, but shy – she realized that she was different somehow and even if she hadn’t… well, despite the best of intentions people can still be a superstitious lot. As she grew so too did her legend among the town gossips and some of the outlying settlements. People would always come by the church or follow her about town, usually at discreet distance but not always. It became commonplace to hear rumors of her, like her touch might heal aches and pains or a lock of her hair could be used to increase fertility… utter nonsense of course but over time it became burden enough that she began to withdraw, closeting herself away in the church with Father Tobyn, myself and the other clergy.” Father Zantus turned from the window and faced you, his eyes deeply saddened. “Until that Varisian boy, Delek. He was from one of the local families and was a touch shy himself. I don’t know how they met but they no doubt bonded over their self-imposed isolation… they got closer and, well I’m sure you know how young love tends to be, all dramatic passion with no sense of self. She managed to hide it from Father Tobyn – the old man had plenty of other things to distract him, true enough – but I kept a closer watch over her and caught her sneaking out once to see the boy… I never said anything, I figured her destiny was writ, what was the harm in her knowing love as a young girl should. She wasn’t lonely anymore, wasn’t morose or painfully shy … she started going back out into the town, even began singing again, sometimes for no reason at all. Father Tobyn marked the change of course, but thought little of it, pleased simply to have her ‘snapping out of it’, this torpor she had been in. I imagine that summer was the happiest of her life…” “…and then she turned up pregnant.” The priest’s face turned grim. “I wasn’t privy to the conversation, but it wasn’t hard to imagine – Nualia told Delek and the young man panicked, accused her of infidelity and worse, storming out on her and leaving her a confused and despondent wreck. She confessed to Father Tobyn whom, I’ll admit, took it rather badly. He’d had plans for her future and a child she would be forced to raise did not figure into them. His anger only added to the confusion and pain she felt, and the girl retreated inward, resolving herself to prayers for forgiveness and guidance, though I doubt she found either. For my part I sought out the boy, thinking a reunion – even a temporary one – on better terms might go far to assuage the girl’s inner discord, but the Varisians had shuttled him off somewhere, no doubt fearing the wrath of the Father, and I could not locate him, nor even gain acknowledgement that he had ever been.” Father Zantus shrugged then, planting both hands upon his desk as if need of support, and from the weariness in his voice you could guess that he had not slept much if at all since the encounter in the crypts. “It was not a pleasant time, but neither was it terrible. Nualia locked herself away and refused to see anyone except for myself on a handful of occasions. She took her meals in her rooms, rarely if ever spoke except in prayer. Father Tobyn’s relationship with her seemed beyond repair though to his credit he did try. I imagine if she had carried the child to term he would have accepted it as well… but that wasn’t to be.” “Nualia lost the child several months into her pregnancy. I heard some whispers among the midwives that the unborn had been something twisted, deformed, even monstrous though at the time I attributed that more to gossip than anything else – the girl had always been a fertile plot for those with particular imaginations to sow… she herself lost a lot of blood, and fell into a deep sleep, one which we were unable to awaken her from. Days stretched on into weeks, and there was naught we could do but pray.” “It had been almost three weeks when I was away, visiting some of the farms in the outer Hinterlands… I returned to discover the church in flames, the townsfolk doing all they could to arrest the fire before it spread any further – the old church wasn’t the only building destroyed in that fire. The stables in the northern part of the town burned, as did the White Stag Inn and several homes. We were fortunate that so few were injured, but we lost Father Tobyn that night, and Nualia as well.” “Or so we thought.” Father Zantus reached out to open a small chest on his desk, unlocking it with a hand that trembled ever so slightly. “The other night in the crypts, Father Tobyn’s remains had been taken, yes… but in their place, I found this…” Reaching into the chest, he slowly withdrew a gleaming braid of silver hair, hair which could only have come from Nualia. Laying it out on the worn oaken surface, he shook his head. “I do not know if this was left as a warning, as a cry for help or as a harbinger of things yet to come… Whether she is being held captive or has some hand in these events I cannot guess – Desna has fallen silent on the subject of the girl - but if Nualia is alive, we must find her. I owe her that much, at the very least.” Category:Exposition